


As Free As My Hair

by petpluto



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, day in the life, hair cuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petpluto/pseuds/petpluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 26 years, Mac decides it is time for a drastic change. She just didn't anticipate Wallace being at her apartment afterward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Free As My Hair

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a [November VMFicRecs prompt](http://vmficrecs.tumblr.com/post/101493531235/november-veronica-mars-fic-prompts). Because I do love my prompts! 
> 
> Also, when I saw the movie, I thought the Wallace-Mac friendship was long overdue; but I also was intrigued by the idea that Mac would tell Wallace something and not immediately tell Veronica as well. This story is a little bit of an exploration of that, and of this friendship.
> 
> The title is from a [Lady Gaga song](http://www.metrolyrics.com/hair-lyrics-lady-gaga.html) I've never heard, because I mean, hair.

It isn’t an impulsive decision. Not really. It’s not something she’s ever given a lot of thought to, either. Not really. But Mac turned 26 a week ago, and the urge to do something - anything - drastic had eaten her up since.

She turned 26, and she’s still living in Neptune. Still occasionally goes camping with her family. And still had the same long, brown hair she’s nurtured since she was six.

When she made the appointment with her preferred hairdresser, it had been for the usual - cut off the dead ends, maybe talk about doing a subtle purple highlight. Something that skirted the line of Sun Microsystems’ loose “dress” code. Indiscreet enough to be respectable, and yet bright enough to sooth her rebellious soul.

She walked in, and in the time between waiting for the person before her to be done and her own turn, she changed her mind.

And when Teresa asked if she was going with the usual, she shrugged.

“Actually,” she’d said, “I was thinking we’d go shorter. A lot shorter. And maybe a little purple.”

And then, after giving her stylist free reign, she closed her eyes and listened to her talk as she worked. Felt the first lock of hair fall down. Heard the buzzing of the razor by her ear, then tickling the base of her skull. Refused to look in the mirror when Teresa handed it to her. Stepped over the alarming amount of her hair littering the floor, paid, over tipped, and then walked out to her car, where the wind immediately bit into her neck.

She’d stopped dead in the parking lot, and shuddered.

When she’d said “go shorter”, she’d meant it. When she avoided looking in the mirror at the end of it all, the cut, the coloring, the everything, it was the right decision. No point in falling apart on the floor of Tanglez. But, she thinks ruefully, she really should have considered that it was Tuesday.

And that meant the weekly Skype conversation with Veronica. And that meant Wallace coming over.

Wallace, who had a key to her apartment and who was probably already chatting away with his best friend and eating all of her good chips.

It consumes her thoughts on the way home. Wallace in her space, when she had thought she’d be alone. Wallace seeing her with her new hair before she’s had time to adjust to it. 

Her suspicions are confirmed when she pulls into the parking lot of her complex and Wallace’s car is right there. She sighs, pulls in beside him, and sits. Lifts a hand up to touch her hair, and then pulls it back down. Avoids looking in the rearview mirror.

“It’s only hair,” she mutters. “It’s only hair, and you’re going to sneak inside, lock yourself in the bathroom, and not freak out.”

She grabs her bag, and walks to the building, up the stairs. And then, feeling foolish, takes off her shoes before walking down the hall. Ignores the thought that she’s already freaking out.

The one good thing about it being Wallace in her apartment, as opposed to Veronica or her mother, is that she can practically guarantee that he’s left the door unlocked for her, and that makes getting in without being detected all the easier. Although, as she slowly turns the knob, she’s really regretting not paying more attention to how Veronica did it all those years ago. She probably wouldn’t have taken off her shoes.

She pushes the door open slightly. Wallace’s voice echoes from the office, regaling Veronica with the tale of how his center went up for a lay up and ended up slamming his head into the rim instead of putting the ball there. Breathes a sigh of relief, and pushes the door open more fully.

Which then lets out a shrill and continuous squeak. She freezes, shoes in hand, bag slipping down her shoulder, and hears the computer chair slide against the wood and Wallace then bounding out of the office, down the hallway, and toward the kitchenette and door. 

“Mac!” He calls out to her as he rounds the corner, “Where you been? You were supposed to be here like 45 minutes ag-”

And then he stops, and stares. Mac shuffles a little further into the apartment. Pushes the squeaky door closed. “Hi.”

“What happened to your hair?" Wallace's voice creaks. "And why are you holding your shoes?”

She winces, pulls her shoes protectively to her chest. “Is it that bad?”

Wallace’s stare turns panicked. “No, no. No. Not bad. Just - different. You know. Very different. I just - you didn’t tell me you were - It’s short,” he settles on. “And you got some blonde mixed with your purple.”

“There’s blonde?” Her voice squeaks, and he steps toward her.

“Yeah. There’s some blonde.”

She breathes out, drops the shoes, and steps closer to the counter, pushing her hands against it. “I’m blonde.”

“And purple,” Wallace supplies.

“It looks terrible.”

“No. No. Just - you surprised me, is all. It looks good.”

“It looks good?” She looks at him. “Really?”

He shuffles over to her, kicks her shoes away, and hugs her. Mac grips his arms, and he tightens his hold. “Yeah. It looks good. You don’t think so?”

“I haven’t looked yet,” she confesses. “It’s just something that I felt like I had to do, you know? And I forgot that you were coming over and I forgot about Veronica -”

They both turn and look toward the office. Wallace reaches into his back pocket. Mac pulls her phone out of her bag. Veronica Mars - Missed Call. Veronica Mars Text. Text. Text. Missed Call. 

“Hey, Vee,” Wallace says next to her, arm wrapped around her shoulder. “We’re good. Just surprised Mac at the door, you know.”

She hears Veronica’s garbled voice over his phone, and Wallace nods. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll be back in there in a second. You got time to grab a snack.”

“She was worried?”

“She’s Veronica,” Wallace answers, and she grins because it is the only answer. “And she’s hungry, so we’ve got a second. You wanna see your new ‘do before she does?”

She leans against him. “Yeah. I was going to lock myself away in the bathroom. You foiled my plans.”

“Well,” Wallace shrugs, “you’re late. And we may have gotten a little worried about you.”

“And ran out of snacks?”

“Yeah, that might have happened too.”

She sighs. “Now that you’re here, you want to come with me? Catch me if I collapse?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Wallace stays on her left side as they pass the office, blocking any potential for Veronica seeing her, and then nods her into the bathroom first. She walks in without turning on the light. Stands in front of the mirror she’s only slightly too short for, closes her eyes, and hits the switch.

She lets the light hit her eyelids, and then looks at herself in the mirror. And staring back is a brunette with a pixie cut and blonde and purple highlights. The woman in the mirror looks lighter than she remembers feeling, possibly ever. Happier. She reaches for the reflection, and then thinks about fingerprints.

“Not too shabby,” she tells herself, and sees Wallace nodding in the mirror.

“I told you, it’s good,” he says. “Just, warn a guy when you’re gonna come in looking like a whole new you.”

“This is my apartment,” she retorts. “I can come in looking like a whole new me without any notice whatsoever.”

“Not on Tuesdays,” Wallace tells her. “Any other day, that’s all fine. On Tuesdays, you either tell me or you wait till Wednesday.”

She laughs. “Okay. Tuesdays are no longer major life changes day.”

“That’s right. Now, should we go in there and show Vee, or do you want to admire yourself some more?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “We’ll go see Veronica. After all, it’s almost her bedtime, since she’s on the East Coast and all.”

Wallace smirks. She slides out of the bathroom and walks ahead of him in the hall. Turns and plops herself down in front of her computer.

“Hi Veronica,” she greets, and Veronica looks up from her bag of popcorn.

“Whoa, Mac!” Veronica answers back. “Check you out!”

Her hand involuntarily shoots toward her hair, and for the first time she allows herself to touch it. “Yeah, I just did it today.”

Veronica pixelates, and then comes back with a sharpness around her eyes and mouth. Mac involuntarily gulps. “You’re going to need a whole new wardrobe for that hair.”

“You’d know,” she shoots back, and Veronica grins.

“Seriously, Mac, it looks amazing,” she tells her, and Mac can feel herself growing red.

“Enough about me - what’s going on with you?”

Veronica shrugs as Wallace comes back into the room with a new bag of chips. “You know, busting balls and making As. Not too much excitement other than academic in my world right now, Mac Attack.”

“So things didn’t work out with whats-his-name?” She asks as she reaches into the bag and makes room for Wallace on the seat.

She watches Veronica shake out her hair. “Things didn’t even make it to second base with whats-his-name.”

“Hey!” Wallace chimes in. “Hey! Things I do not want to know. Girl talk is some other night of the week. This is Wallace Time.”

Mac gives him the tiniest of shrugs, and Veronica sticks her tongue out at him. “Wallace Time, huh? Then lets talk about you. Any special ladies on the horizon?”

“Oh, come on, Vee. You know even if it’s about my love life, it’s still considered girl talk. And no. My dating pool is pretty shallow at the moment.”

Mac’s smile deepens as she watches Veronica’s expression turn faux-concerned. “Is that why you don’t want to hear about second base, Wallace? Is it because you don’t even remember what second base is?”

“I remember you being nicer,” Wallace tells her. “I miss my snickerdoodle baking friend.”

“I just sent you a care package a week ago. It had snickerdoodles and brownies and Mac’s present.”

Mac leans into Wallace. “That’s partially my fault. I may have stolen a majority of the snickerdoodles when I dropped by to get my gift.”

Veronica shakes her head disapprovingly and then sighs. “I have to run. I need to do some last minute revisions to my paper about coercive interrogation in post 9-11 society.”

“Okay, bye!” She waves at the screen, and Wallace waves with her.

“Later, Vee!”

Veronica waves once, and then is gone.

~~~

Two days later, she gets an email from Veronica that has links to a couple of dresses and shoes. “To Go With the Hair” is the Subject Line. Mac grins.

~~~

It’s a Tuesday when she gets the interview with Kane Software. And it’s a Tuesday when she accepts their job offer.

She makes sure to tell Wallace both times.


End file.
